Wit is absolutely sociable spirit or aphoristic genius.

The meanest authors have at least this similarity with the great author of heaven and earth, that they usually say after a completed day of work: "And behold, what he had done was good.

Poetry and philosophy are, according to how you take them, different spheres, different forms, or factors of religion. Try to really combine both, and you will have nothing but religion.

There is no self-knowledge except historical self-knowledge. No one knows what he is if he doesn't know what his contemporaries are.

Wit as an instrument of revenge is as infamous as art is as a means of sensual titillation.

Religion is absolutely unfathomable. Always and everywhere one can dig more deeply into infinities.

Nothing truly convincing - which would possess thoroughness, vigor, and skill - has been written against the ancients as yet; especially not against their poetry.